The Anima Within
by Dream Adept
Summary: In a world where people are born with a single Pokemon spirit resting within their being, turmoil and conflict begin to spread across the Circulan Region. When Cyrano's younger sister is taken by a mysterious group of people, he is thrown on an adventure that will ultimately reveal the mysteries of the anima and a sinister plot to take over the world. -alternate universe-
1. The Attack

**Woweeeeeee! I haven't been on here for a long time O_O Boy, fanfiction has changed... and this document manager text is puny! Ah, well, nothing I can do about that. I'm back, and with a new tale here to boot. I do hope you readers will enjoy this. It's not my first Pokemon tale, but it's definitely the first one to be published on fanfiction. Here we go!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon**

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Chapter 1: The Attack

They came in like a virus - silent, unsuspecting, and then once within, they wrought destruction upon the little town of Primordia.

Cyrano had been looking after his ten-year-old sister, Ida, when he first heard the shouts and crashing coming from the town hall. His home was on the edge of town, the town hall in the center. If HE could hear it, something awful was going on.

"Ida, I'm going down there to see what's happening." He scrambled to get his sweater on and shoved his feet into his shoes.

His sister stood at the foot of the stairs and scowled. "I want to go with you," she whined.

He glared at her. "No, Ida. This sounds bad. Stay home and keep safe-"

"No!" She dashed forward and clung to his arm. He winced as he felt prickling of static where she gripped his arm. "Please please please let me help you, I can shock bad guys super easily!"

Cyrano pried his sister from his arm and ruffled her lanky mop of hair. "Just stay, all right?" he said to her in his most coddling voice possible. "Go hide in your room or something." He and Ida jumped as a loud boom resounded from outside.

"But what about Mom and Dad?" she cried. "I'll tell on you when they get back!"

"Just stay and keep quiet, okay? I'll be back." He turned and slammed the door in his younger sister's protesting face.

He wasn't the only one disturbed by the noises coming from Primordia's center. Many of the neighbours were poking their heads out, using their Pokemon anima abilities to get a better perspective either through hearing or scent.

"Cyrano, don't even think about running there!" one of the women yelled at him from her door. "I can smell gunpowder from here!"

Of course she would know - she possessed a Growlithe anima. Still, Cyrano gave no reaction. He continued to run down the street.

His neighbour was right - as soon as he arrived, there were smoke and flames coming out of their modest town hall. Cyrano thought he saw men clothed in dark outfits running around the front of the building, but they were covered by billowing smoke. Cyrano swallowed down his anxiety that had formed in his throat._ Oh boy,_ he thought. _Fire. My favourite._

Cyrano heard a cry for help coming from the mayor's house, which was beginning to catch on fire for it was directly beside the town hall. Cyrano dashed towards it, not caring if he was literally out in the open for whoever caused this destruction - "Water, we need water over here," he yelled to the many bystanders - and reached the mayor's door. He burst inside and was greeted by a tall figure dressed completely in black rags. A cloth masked the lower half of the man's face. He wore a small black hat with an unusual red insignia on the front.

"Who-" Cyrano began, but was immediately cut off as vines shot from the man's outstretched arms. They snagged his entire body and pulled him in.

"I got another kid," the man shouted to someone upstairs.

"Good," someone replied, "I've got the mayor's children here."

"Let's bring 'em in then- oof!"

"Fat chance you're taking us anywhere!" Cyrano jerked violently, calling on his Pokemon to help free him from his bindings. Shimmering leaves appeared around his body, deftly slicing the vines and setting him free. He punched his captor in the face as hard as possible and turned towards the stairs by the door, where another man dressed similarly to the other one was standing at the top, holding two large bundles on his shoulders.

Cyrano tried to ignore the sting of smoke as it continuously filled the hall. "Put them down!" he shouted, but it came out hoarsely and without strength.

Without a word the man jumped. Cyrano dove out of the way just as the man landed right where he was standing. He landed with a deafening crash and caused a crater to form in the marble floor. Then he was out the door, running, with two squirming bags in hand.  
Cyrano yelped as a flame licked his leg, all muscles in his body recoiling from the dancing heat. He rolled and crawled over the stunned body of the man he had punched earlier and scrambled out the door.

A lot had happened while he had the scuffle inside the mayor's house. Buildings in the vicinity sustained some sort of damage - windows were smashed, doors broken in, debris strewn everywhere - and most of all, men in tattered black clothing swarmed everywhere like termites. One bumped violently into Cyrano, causing him to tumble to the pavement.

"Team, move out!" a gruff voice was shouting.

The one that had knocked Cyrano over turned briefly and tried to drag the winded boy across the pavement in a lame attempt to bring in a captive, but Cyrano twisted and stumbled to his feet. He glared savagely and hoped that his normally dark golden eyes became the leering yellow that they were supposed to do when he glared hard. It seemed to work, because the skinny henchmen fled immediately. He disappeared into the trees surrounding town along with the rest of the perpetrators.

And as quickly as the attack took place, it was gone.

"How peculiar! What was a Treeko anima doing in a blazing building, eh, lad?"

A steady hand was placed on Cyrano's shoulder. Cyrano rubbed his eyes blearily and nearly jumped when he saw who it was - it was Eugene, Primordia's "mystery man". He was well known throughout town as a charismatic wanderer who happened to be staying for a while - the mayor was an old friend of his. But to have this man of prestige speaking to him was almost mindblowing for Cyrano. He, a measly fifteen-year-old kid with an unevolved anima, talking to the man whose anima was as mysterious as he was?

Eugene chuckled, but his smile was instantly replaced with a grim look. "Greetings aside, lad. We have a mess to fix. I don't know who those men were, but they came here with a destructive purpose."

Cyrano swallowed again. His throat kept catching for some reason. "Why... why were they... the kids..." His eyes widened. "The mayor's kids! I saw one of the guys take them!"

"Aye, but they weren't the only ones." The tall man visibly sagged, exhausted and defeated. Cyrano's heart sank. He looked around at the wreckage of town, spotted people helping each other, watched various water streams directed at the leftover flames of the building, but he saw something else instead.

"Those children weren't the only ones taken, right?" he squeaked.

Eugene said nothing. He sighed heavily. "The wreckage was only a diversion. They took many children from town. I suspect they tried to take you, but failed."

But Cyrano was no longer listening. He tore away from Eugene and began to run faster than he could have imagined.

_C'mon, faster!_ he scolded himself. _You've got a Treeko anima! You're supposed to be naturally fast!_

Cyrano was gasping for air by the time he came home. The sight of the front door hanging open by one hinge sent an icy spear through his heart.

"Ida!" he screamed. He ran indoors, saw signs of a struggle in the living room. There were countless scorch marks along the walls, likely from Ida's powerful thundershocks which she often failed to control. Now she had a use for it, but it had failed her. He dashed up the stairs and burst into Ida's room, where it looked like a hurricane had come through.

His little sister was gone.

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***gasp* And there you have it! The classic hero-is-urged-on-an-adventure-due-to-conflict start to a story! Yes, I have been looking into to fiction techniques quite a bit since I was last on here. Reviews and critiques are greatly appreciated, and look forward to the next chapter! (That is, if you can even look forward to ANY chapter coming up on a majority of fanfiction stories Dx)**


	2. A Push Into the Journey

**Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my story. Here's the second one now, coming right up. Yeesh, I apologize greatly for me awkwardness here in the A/N. I'd forgotten what I oughta write in here xD Anyways, enjoy~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon**

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Chapter 2: A Push Into the Journey

"Ida!" Cyrano screamed again. "Ida, come out! Please come out!"

He heard his front door open. Cyrano ran downstairs, his teeth bared. "Give me back my sister-" he began to shout, but stopped short. It wasn't a kidnapper standing in the doorway. A lanky boy with dark hair stood, staring solemnly at Cyrano with roan-red eyes.

"Cyrano," he said.

"Freyr..." Suddenly a wave of exhaustion washed over him. He swayed, but his friend ran forward and steadied him in an embrace. Wordlessly, Freyr dragged Cyrano into the kitchen and sat him down on a chair. He had been at the house so often that Freyr didn't have to ask Cyrano where his things were. He grabbed a glass, filled it with water, placed it on the table, and set about picking up the pieces of a broken dish on the floor. Freyr did all of this while his friend sat blank-faced on the chair.

"Ida's gone," was all Cyrano could say.

His friend nodded and stayed silent. Now that the floor was clear of sharp hazards, Freyr pulled up a second chair and sat in front of Cyrano.

"Okay, buddy, look at me. Focus," Freyr told him calmly.

Cyrano stared back at him, confused. This prompted the other boy to grin slightly.

"Good, that shows me you're listening. We have to keep calm right now and look at the current situation, all right? Primordia has just been attacked. You know that, yes?" Cyrano nodded.

"I didn't see what happened at the town's center, but I did see enough outside that the ones who did this came in vast numbers."

"The town hall was on fire," Cyrano heard himself say. "The buildings around it were damaged, but the rest of the town is in pretty good shape, I guess." As if a town who had its children kidnapped could be in good shape...

Freyr nodded, his expression as calm as ever. "Excellent. Now, where do you think your parents are?"

"They work at the hospital," he mumbled in response. There was a flutter of relief inside of him for the people who had been injured. "They're probably tending to the wounded right now." At the mention of his parents, Cyrano got up from the chair and breathed hard. Suddenly the house felt too small.

"Ida is gone, Freyr. She's gone! They took her away, I know it." Panic settled in his chest. "What are they going to do to her, Freyr? Who are those people anyway?"

Freyr was looking at him with a grim expression on his face. "I could do some research and find out who they are, but as for what they're going to do with all those kids they took, I'm as clueless as you."

"We need to go. Now." Cyrano went to the fridge and scribbled a messy note for his parents:_ They took Ida. Gone to find her. I promise I'll come back with her._

"Cyrano, wait, listen-"

"No!" He whirled on Freyr, eyes blazing. "My sister was stolen. Not yours, mine. You may have gotten out of this whole mess unscathed, but I was supposed to take care of her, okay? I was supposed to-"

Freyr lunged forward and knocked Cyrano to the floor. He pinned his arm across the boy's chest and planted his other hand beside his hea

"Listen to yourself, Cyrano! I've been your friend since childhood, your little sister is as much of a sister to me as she is to you, you got it?" Freyr wasn't yelling, but his face was so close to Cyrano's and his voice had so much strength in it that it certainly felt like Cyrano was being yelled at. He wanted to struggle but he knew it was futile - Freyr's Riolu anima wouldn't let him move a centimeter even if he tried.

"I want to save Ida as much as you do, but we've got to have some kind of plan, and we've got to work together. Got it?"

"All right, all right, I'm sorry. I understand. I'm sorry, Freyr." Once the pair rose from the floor and gotten to their feet, they stood around in silence. They Cyrano allowed himself to smile ruefully.

"Let's figure something out, yeah?"

Freyr smiled and patted Cyrano's shoulder, maybe with a little more force than he had intended.

With Cyrano's spirited determination and Freyr's brains, the two young teens managed to get a plan together within half an hour. They'd talked it over as they stuffed their daypacks with a few items for survival - water bottles, any on-the-go foods they could get their hands on, flashlights (since their animas had no form of creating light for them), notepads for keeping information, a multi-purpose knife that Cyrano got from his dad's toolshed, and a small survival field guide that Freyr owned. They also took about 500 Pokedollars each, hoping the skimpy amount would be all they'd need on their adventure.

They would follow the hopefully obvious trail the kidnappers took through the forest. Freyr's keen Foresight would help with tracking. If the pursuers were heading in the general direction of another town or city (Primordia was very much surrounded by other cities and towns in nearly every direction), then the pair would stop for a bit to ask for information, restock on supplies, perhaps talk to the authorities if they found out something new

The plan was bound to change at any moment, but it was all they had and all they could work with. As Cyrano and Freyr left the house and walked through his backyard towards the surrounding woods, Cyrano wondered if what they were doing was reckless, silly even. They were just a pair of fifteen-year-old kids - they should be leaving this job to the adults. Surely by now news of the attack on Primordia would have spread. People everywhere were probably taking action now. So why were they going off into the unknown, going against something that was probably much bigger than anything they could ever imagine?

To Cyrano, the answer was simple: his sister had to be saved, and he had to be the one to save her. He'd always vowed to protect her, no matter what, and he had let her come in harm's way. The only one who could do this was him. But he was glad to have such a good friend at his side.

And the journey was not only for his sister, but in a way it was for himself. Cyrano could feel the spirit of the Treeko within him. It burned with energy, itching to taste action and experience. It was on the verge of evolving, and who knew what would trigger the change out in the big world?

Cyrano glanced back at the house once they'd closed the gate to his backyard and walked a considerable distance into the forest. Freyr glanced back as well, and then the two looked at each other.

"Here we go," Freyr said.

Cyrano smiled slightly. "Yeah," he replied.  
_I promise I'll find you, Ida. I swear._

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**And there we have it. Hope you enjoyed, and reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	3. The Trail That Disappeared

**I'm on a roll with this story! Whew, okay, be calm - I can't get too excited. But I'm very happy with the progress I've made on this tale so far. I've actually got several other chapters finished, I just haven't uploaded them yet. I like to be ahead in my stories, just in case I, well... let's just hope it doesn't come to the point that I stop updating. Being a writer is harder than it looks, I guess.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon (but a majority of the characters in here were created by me. Just thought I'd throw that out there.)**

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Chapter 3: The Trail That Disappeared

**Subject: Ruminations on the Nature of the Anima**  
**To: Silas Gracidea**

_Dear friend,_  
_ Good tidings unto you, Silas. I hope that your life so far has been nothing short of relaxing and exciting at the same time. I also hope that your responsibilities and the nature of your role have not worn you down too much. I have been living a quiet life here in my little abode. It is here that I think the most deeply, and I would like to share with you some of the theories I have come to on the nature and behaviour of the Anima._

_As you and I both know, we have been born in this world and immediately upon birth, a wandering Pokemon spirit comes to reside within us. We are bestowed its powers and talents, and it can help us find our place in the world and society. Like the anima itself, we are only able to use the maximum of four abilities that the anima has allowed itself to learn. But why only four? What is the magical number behind a rounding out of four powers, and one special affinity unique to our kind of anima? In school, the children are helped to discover the name of their Pokemon's special ability. My Own Tempo has helped greatly with my music studies as well as my work on theories such as this one. Forgive me for sliding off track somewhat, but I do hope that you have been training your own musical talent as well!_

_I shall not bore you with a held out rant - I know that long lectures have bored you when we were in school together. But I know that you have had your own ideas on this whole concept yourself, so I thought it appropriate to share with you. Why do you think the anima are only capable of recollecting four moves at a time? Even you yourself, with such an esteemed anima, must also abide by those rules. And one more question, before I end this email: Why do the anima choose us? Why do each of our anima, each one a specific Pokemon, choose each person? Perhaps the Pokemon soul simply wanders and happens upon a newborn without its anima half. Or perhaps the two souls search for each other in this vast universe, until the moment of birth comes and they can finally unite as one._

_Ah, that is a mystery that will likely not be discovered for a long time. I do hope I have not bothered you with this email, but I just had to get it out to someone, and you are among the few that I can trust in this world. Please take good care of yourself, my friend, and do not lose yourself in the world of swirling spirits struggling to find their identities, myself included._

_Sincerest regards from your childhood friend._

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The pair's trudge through the woods was getting to be almost too relaxing. They had to keep reminding each other that they were on a serious mission, and they were not out in the woods to go for a nature stroll. Cyrano felt in his element; with the plants and trees growing all around and the grass buzzing beneath his feet, he could feel the Treeko within him perk up with excitement and a new feeling of power.

Fortunately, the kidnappers had gone right through the forest and didn't exactly make an attempt to cover up their tracks. Trampled grass and bushes that had been partially cut down made for a particularly obvious trail. Cyrano and Freyr followed it more and more, and as they did, it seemed to widen, to grow in size.

"It looks like a bunch of people converged here to move as a group," Freyr noted. "Though how they managed to get through the forest in large numbers while dragging a bunch of kids is still a bit beyond me. Oh, wait, hang on a minute."

Cyrano noticed it at the same time. "Look," he gasped.

They'd arrived in a sizable forest clearing. Though there were spots along the edges that were pristine and untouched, the middle area was a different story. Dirt had been kicked up, grass and plants flattened, and there was even a few spots that showed a bit of a struggle had happened: a patch of burnt grass here, a spot of acid there. Then Cyrano saw something else. Four lines had dug into the soft dirt and showed a long trail leading into the forest, in the same direction they had been walking. He bent down and saw that his suspicions were correct. There were also foot marks surrounding the lines in the grass.

"Some kind of four wheeler," Freyr said as he peered at the wheel trail. "Whether it was a wagon or a powered vehicle, I'm not sure."

"The wheels aren't much thicker than that of a bicycle's," Cyrano said in bewilderment. "Did they use that thing to transport all the kids? There are footprints around the wheel tracks as well. Maybe the kids are kept in the cart and the men walked around it? Surely they can't walk the kids forever. Or maybe-"

"Maybe they used some kind of terror tactic to make them obey," Freyr added grimly.

Cyrano fell silent. His sister was a fighter, a rebel. He couldn't bear to think of the harm that might come to her if she tried to resist her captors. He shook his head.  
"C'mon," he said with a stony face. "Let's hurry. Which direction are we going in?"

"West."

"They may have gotten some distance in on us, but maybe we can catch up."

"How about we run a little bit? The wheel trail is clear enough."

"Sounds like a good idea."

The boys hitched up their packs and began to jog, following the wheel-damaged dirt towards the setting sun.

* * *

And then out of nowhere, the trail vanished.

"How can this be?" Cyrano gaped at the spot where the four lines just stopped abruptly. Even the pressed grass that had followed the sides of the wheels were gone. Just ahead of their only trail, the forest appeared to be left untouched. Cyrano walked until he was right at the tip of the wheel trail and squinted down at the grass, sure that he was seeing things or rather, not seeing what he should be seeing - a trail.

Cyrano turned to Freyr and cried helplessly, "What do we do? Our only lead is gone! How can a big wide vehicle and a whole gang of men just - just - disappear?"

Freyr was staring at the space in front of the trail intently. "I bet they teleported," he said simply.

"What?" For a moment Cyrano thought his friend had gone crazy, but Freyr was being serious with his assumption. "Please explain," Cyrano said impatiently.

"Well..." Freyr looked around at the tops of the trees around them. "It couldn't have flown off the ground, otherwise there would be a gradual thinning out of the wheel lines. Also, it isn't wide enough between the trees, and there should be a disturbance in the leaves and branches if they somehow squeezed in. From what I can see, there isn't. So they must have teleported."

"But - how -" Cyrano sputtered, when suddenly the leaves in the tree behind him rustled thunderously.

"My oh my oh, ain't that kid a smart un?"

The pair whirled around and tensed as a short, spindly old man leapt from the tree and landed lightly on his feet. It was almost disconcerting to see someone so grey and weathered do something so athletic. The old man smiled and cackled, and despite the dim light, they could see his grinning mouth revealing a lot of missing teeth.

"What's the matter, boys? Never seen an old raisin like me jump from a big ol' tree like this un?" He cackled again. It was an arrogant sound, and Cyrano didn't like it. He did, however, look like a raisin, like the old man said. A skinny, creepy raisin.

The man laughed and laughed until he had to wipe his grimy sleeve across his eyes. "Ahhhh, I ain't seen such shocked young un's in so long. I'd forgotten how knee slappin' funny it is." He stopped laughing and stared intently at the boys. "So what're you kiddos doin' chasing after that no-good lot?"

It took a few seconds for Cyrano to find his voice. "They took away my sister," he said, trying to sound bold.

"Ahhh yes..." Raisin Man began to walk towards him. Freyr stood very still by his side, ever the non-confrontational one, but he was tense, ready to jump to Cyrano's aid if need be. Soon the stranger was about three feet away from them. He leaned forward and squinted at Cyrano, as if inspecting him very closely. Cyrano tried to hold his breath, as the man smelled like he hadn't showered in weeks.

"Hmph! Looking for your sister indeed," Raisin Man scoffed. "Well guess what, young un', I saw 'er all right."

"You did?" Cyrano asked, surprised. "But how do you know?"

He snickered and tapped his face. "Got the same nose and the same determined look in yore eyes. She was easy to spot, matter o' fact, 'cause she was quite a fighter, and she in't the only one fightin' in that group of muggers. I saw her strugglin' and bitin' an' twisting. And boy don't she got one biggy of a shocker, eh? Managed to fry one guy until someone decided to send her to dreamland. Twas one o' the other prisoners who did that, actually."

Cyrano struggled to find words as his thoughts twisted up in his head. _Ida was fighting - she was using her Thundershock - still captured - someone put her to sleep - is she hurt -_

He heard Freyr speak, his voice soft and husky. "Why didn't you do anything?"

Raisin Man shrugged. "It was one 'gainst fifty of em, kid," he said gruffly. "An' anyhoo, I wouldn't 'ave been able to do a thing. They gots an Abra kid with them. They used him to teleport all of them in groups."

_So that's how they managed to teleport out of thin air._ "Where? Where were they teleported?" Cyrano demanded.

"Bah, loud boy. How should I know which direction they went in? They coulda gone left or right or up or down!" He snorted out a laugh. "But that kid ain't a master teleporter. 'E couldn't have gotten far, warping a flippin' army mob o' men and kids. Furthest they could have gone would be five kilometers at best."

Freyr grabbed Cyrano's shoulder. "Then my best bet is that they gave themselves a boost," he said. "Amicitia City is just a kilometer away, I believe. They probably teleported to the other side, and then kept going from there until their Abra anima is able to recover."

"Okay, I trust you," Cyrano sighed. He turned to the Raisin Man and forced a smile.

"Um, thank you for providing us with the information we needed."

The old man gave one last whooping cackle, which ended in some gross hacking. Cyrano and Freyr leapt backwards. "Gahaha! You kids are so reckless these days," he was saying while wiping more laughter tears from his eyes. "Hope ye find your sis, kiddo. Even though you'll probably just give up along the way. Adventurin' ain't easy!"

He snapped his fingers, and in a sudden and brief burst of light and colour, he was gone. Cyrano and Freyr stared at the empty air where Raisin Man had just been, hearing the echoes of his lasting laughter fade into the forest air.

Cyrano blinked rapidly. "He's gone," he said, stunned. "He just teleported away."

"He must have been an Abra anima himself," Freyr murmured. "I thought I got a Psychic-type vibe from him. Maybe that's how he knew where they went."

"Maybe..." Cyrano turned and found the wheel-pocked dirt marks again. "Let's go, Freyr."

They set off.

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**Ooooh! I wonder who that mysterious person in the beginning of the chapter was~? It will all be revealed in time, my audience. I'm hoping to pick up speed with this story soon! In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed reading. Any reviews left are greatly appreciated!**


	4. An Alley Scuffle

**Double update chaaa! This story is too much fun to write - all without a single outline. Well, I do have an outline - it's in my head. I suspect I'm not the only person to just wing stories here on fanfiction though o_o""**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon.**

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Chapter 4: An Alley Scuffle

By the time they had found a path that led directly to the city, the warm Saturday afternoon became a crisp late summer evening. With the sky a little darker, the exhausted, haggard pair finally took their first steps on real pavement, a relief after the uneven walk on grass, dirt, and roots. They were no less than amazed by the size of Amicitia as they walked beneath its entrance arch. While not as massive as the region's famous Dignitas City, compared to a life in the simple town of Primordia, the city made the pair feel small and very inexperienced. They walked upon a patterned road wide enough for people and bicycles alike, and the buildings were multiple stories high.

"So this is a city?" Cyrano managed to choke out, his voice filled with awe.

Freyr glanced at him, a grin barely gracing his lips. "You seem extraordinarily fascinated," he remarked with a hint of teasing in his voice.

"Yeah, well," Cyrano said, tapping his heels against the patterned street, "I may not be easy to impress, but you gotta admit this is awesome."

As evening began to roll in, the people were starting to wrap up their day. They walked slowly through the streets, perhaps off to finish up one final errand before relaxing in the comfort of their homes. Cyrano and Freyr walked slowly on the main street, feeling a little subconscious. They likely looked a little scruffy after a couple hours' walk and jog in the woods.

"Perhaps we should find a place to stay?" Freyr suggested.

Cyrano didn't answer. He suddenly felt utterly exhausted. The skirmish in Primordia from earlier seemed to catch up to him, making his limbs feel heavier quite abruptly. Drained, he stopped walking right in the middle of the street.

"What were we thinking?" he heard himself say before he could stop the words from coming out.

Freyr looked taken aback. "Cyrano?" he asked softly.

"We're just a couple of reckless kids," Cyrano said, despair creeping into his voice. "I mean, honestly, Freyr, what chance do we stand against those guys? They're probably part of an even bigger organization. And we're just two kids with unevolved animas! What chance do we have? We might as well give up and just hope the authorities will get my sister and the others back."

Freyr looked like he wanted to slap Cyrano, to put some sense into him, but he was so shocked by his friend's sudden change in attitude that he did nothing. The pair just stood there in the street, causing a few people passing them to glance with concern, but no one stopped to help.

Suddenly, someone on a battered bicycle rode up to them. "Hey kid, are ya sick or something?"

Freyr looked up apologetically at the stranger that had approached them. "He's just in an extremely sad funk at the moment," he told the arrival.

The boy, scrawny with rather small eyes, glanced around quickly. Then he peered at Cyrano's drooping head, eyes narrowed. He grinned.

"Come and follow me," he chuckled. "You two look mighty weary. I got a spot here in town where you two can rest yourselves down. Maybe yore pal over there will feel a tad better."

The boy dismounted his bike and walked the pair towards one of the large apartment buildings ahead of them. Instead of going up to the front door, however, he turned and started going around to the back. He slid through the narrow alleyway between the two apartment buildings.

"Right this way," the boy called.

Freyr walked with his arms around Cyrano's shoulders. The boy hadn't responded to anything around him since. He seemed to be lost in thought, his dark golden eyes lacking their usual lustre.

They came out to the back of the apartments, which was a wide alley flanked by the buildings themselves and a tall wooden fence on the other side. Freyr frowned and looked around.

"This doesn't look like a-" He was cut off abruptly when Cyrano suddenly pushed him against the fence. A shot of what looked like mud flew past where they had been standing just a few moments before.

Cyrano pulled Freyr to his feet, and the two of them quickly took on a defensive stance. Two boys who looked to be their age stood on one side of the alley, while the boy with the bicycle stood on the other end, blocking the only other exit. He was grinning maliciously.

"Nobody messes with me and gets away with it," he was saying. "You thought you could Leer me and win, twiggy boy? I may have lost that fight, but I won't lose this one!"

"You rock, Jaze!" one of his lackeys crowed.

Cyrano glared. "So my hunch was right," he growled. "You _are_ that kid who bumped into me back at Primordia. So you work for that mob of criminals?"

"Criminals? Ha! Such a primitive way of talking about Team Reaper. Everything we've done is all for the sole plan of improving this world that we live in."

"Cyrano? How did you... what's going on?" Freyr hissed in his ear.

The boy called Jaze laughed. "Aw, is your poor little friend trying to make you feel better after you were oh so droopy in the street?"

"Where is my sister?" Cyrano shouted.

Jaze shook his head. "'Fraid they're too far away by now. And they'll be even farther after I'm done with you. Didja know they let me and my pals over there stay and bring our vengeance upon you? Then we'll be hiking outta here using this teleport gem." He shoved his bike aside and stuck a hand into his pocket, pulling it out to reveal a dark teal orb clenched between his fingers. "A pity it's got one use left, but then again that's all we need to catch up. And it only costs one anima to make! Pretty impressive, right?"

Cyrano was about to ask what he meant, but the boy pounced. His hand became a fiery fist. Cyrano and Freyr both dodged it, jumping to opposite ends. Cyrano turned around to face his opponent, but he was quick. In moments a fist, one without fire this time, connected with his face, sending Cyrano tumbling to the ground. He rolled straight into the wall of the building.

"Cyrano!" he heard Freyr call. Cyrano stood, gasping, and just as Jaze's fist was about to hit him again, he ducked underneath and pounded him right in the chest. The other boy stumbled back and flung his hand out. A small ball of fire shot out and struck Cyrano in the left shoulder. He cried out as red-hot pain shot through his body. He dropped down and rolled so the flames on his clothes died out, but it was so painful, almost too painful to get back up again.

_Great, a Grass-Type against and Fire-Type,_ he thought to himself._ I don't think I know enough moves that are even good enough against him._ Cyrano scrambled to his feet and briefly saw Freyr fighting against the two lackeys a few feet away in the alley. He caught a glimpse of his friend knocking out a buck-toothed boy with a well-placed Force Palm. He barely brought his attention back to Jaze in time, and managed to leap away from another Ember shot.

"C'mon, twiggy boy!" Jaze taunted. "Whatcha gonna do, Leer me again? Is that the only move you know? Your Pound is nothing against my Fire Punch! I've got Chimchar with an awesome egg move and you can't stop me."

"Well, I have an egg move too!" He swung his arm out angrily, sending out sparkling leaves of magic. Jaze tried to dodge, but a Magical Leaf always hits - they struck him and he screamed as he slammed into the fence. Then he laughed harshly.

"I barely - felt a thing," he said through gritted teeth. Though Cyrano was sure he was bluffing, he knew that a Grass-Type attack wouldn't be as effective. Suddenly he heard coughing. Cyrano looked and saw the remaining boy blowing some kind of purple cloud out of his mouth. Some it of had hit Freyr in the face, and now he was swaying, coughing. The other boy punched him roughly and he slammed into the fence.

"No!" Cyrano ran at the other boy, ignoring the spray of sludge coming from the other boy's hand that had struck him on the chest. He leapt at him speedily and knocked him down. The boy fell and weakly squirmed, showing Cyrano that he was already finished. Then he turned around and his heart sank at what he saw.

Jaze had Freyr's head locked in his arms. His friend was gasping weakly, giving out occasional cries of pain.

"Haha! Better surrender now," Jaze snarled. "Would you rather let me beat you to a pulp, or are you so scared of being singed by me that you'd rather watch your friend slowly suffer from poisoning?"

Cyrano stared at Freyr. He was trapped in a helpless situation. He didn't want to admit it, but fire terrified him. He was scared of the blazing licks of pain fire brought upon his skin. But he couldn't bear to see his friend suffer. He stepped forward. "I-"

"Put him down."

A trembling voice rang out in the darkening alley. Cyrano and Jaze turned to the narrow path they had entered from and saw a boy standing there. He was holding out his hand, straight at Jaze, aqua blue eyes peering out through a mop of light brown hair. Two more people stood just behind him - a girl with a pink shawl and pale blue eyes, and another taller boy with a green patterned scarf.

The smaller boy, whose hand was still outstretched towards Jaze and Freyr, looked visibly scared, yet his eyes blazed with determination.

"Put him down," he said in a quivering voice. "Or else I'll Water Gun you both."

* * *

**Pokemon battles! Uh I mean... an alley scuffle? Teenage boys with pokemon powers scuffling in an alley? I don't know! But thanks for reading, and remember, any review is supremely appreciated ;D**


	5. The Captives

**Hey everyone, sorry for the late update been rather busy lately and I haven't had a chance to really type much, but I think I'll just throw this chapter out there to keep the story moving. Also, a quick thank you to Farla for reviewing my story and yes, I thank you very much for pointing out those plot holes for me, although I do have some explanation for them. Most things that don't make much sense in this story based on the whole anima concept will be revealed as the story goes on, as I didn't wanna have a huge spammage of explanation in the beginning, but I guess I'm not doing such a good job of introducing world elements slowly haha xD... **

**But still, thank you muchly, Farla. Oh, and I apologize for Cyrano's selfish character, but he is actually that way. **

**Anyways enough rambling and onto the story!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon**

* * *

Chapter 5: The Captives

_Trundling._

_That was a word she had learned recently from her older brother. The sound she was hearing now - a dull, constant rattling - matched "trundling" in her mind's eye. It was like she lying in a wooden cart, its uneven wheels causing it the pitch to and fro..._

She opened her eyes.

It was dark now, nearly nighttime. The sky above was still faintly tinged with oranges and pinks, but the stars were just beginning to peek out of the dark velvet way up high. Ida turned her head slightly and saw another person staring intently at her. She was a girl who looked to be slightly younger than Ida herself. Her red eyes glittered in the dark. She held a finger up to her lips, still staring. Ida blinked in response and turned her head back up, where she saw bars above and around the cart. They were moving, and she and the girl weren't the only ones in the cart. She could hear a multitude of footsteps around her, all crunching in the grass, and she could hear the occasional whimper of a child or the sharp voice of someone older - likely one of the captors reprimanding the prisoners.

"Hurry up, kiddos," a nasally voice said. "If yew wanna rest, you better keep movin'. Our ship is just straight ahead."

"I wanna go home," a girl cried softly.

There was a faint whoosh, a slapping sound, and then a shriek of pain. More soft sobbing, and Ida's insides boiled when she heard the man hiss, "You ain't goin' anywhere, but you'll be going into a ditch if you keep whinin' like that."

Ida moved slightly, as though to get up, but the other girl put a hand on her shoulder. "Not yet," she whispered. Her necklace, one with round, red beads, clinked slightly when she moved.

"But-" Ida protested, but the girl's hand quickly covered her mouth.

"What're you doing over there, Tallasia?" a soft voice said.

Ida moved her head slightly and saw that she wasn't the only one in the cart. From what she could see in the dim light, there were about five other kids in the cart. Most of them sat or lay on the wood, sulking or napping. The one that had spoken was another boy who was peering curiously at Ida lying in the cart.

Tallasia shook her head almost unnoticeably, but he seemed to understand. He turned away and leaned against the side, an absent look on his face.

The cart suddenly pitched to a halt. Ida slid upward from the momentum and bumped her head. She winced and scowled, looking at the girl Tallasia questioningly.

Tallasia leaned forward so she could whisper right into Ida's ear. "One of the prisoners used Sleep Powder on you and knocked you out after you fought too much, and then they put you here in the prison cart because they have deemed you a high-risk anima."

"What does that mean?" Ida hissed.

"It means that you're powerful and they don't want that. This cage can contain your electric shocks and various other basic attacks. They put most of the high risk kids in here, and the rest are outside walking with all of the Team Reaper guards."

There was a small amount of murmuring outside the cart. Tallasia looked up briefly, and bent down again.

"I'm going to use a light Hypnosis on you so you aren't fully awake," she whispered quickly. "It'll make things easier. Erin will carry you."

"But why?"

Tallasia was already staring intently into Ida's eyes, her own irises glowing a vivid magenta. "Because they might separate you from us," she replied.

Ida sighed softly as her mind drifted into a state of half consciousness. Her eyes closed. Though her awareness was dimmed, she could hear loud voices speaking around her. The cart was jerked roughly. Strong hands grabbed her arms and in moments she was on someone's back, her legs being held up in someone's elbows.

"Move towards the ship and keep quiet," that same nasally voice said commandingly. "Just go on up the ramp there and the men will lead you to your holding rooms. If you try to fight, we'll save you for last and then throw you out of the ship once its in the air."

"Where are the high-risk kids gonna go?" someone else asked.

There was some unintelligible mumbling, and then, "... doesn't matter, she's useless as is. Might as well..." But Ida didn't hear the rest.

She was quickly regaining full consciousness. She was being piggybacked by someone, probably a stocky boy. There was a light touch on her knee, so she opened her eyes and looked at her surroundings through the slits. Unfortunately all she could see was the girl Tallasia, walking alongside her. She couldn't afford to move her head, so Ida merely rested against the boy's shoulder. For some reason, she wondered if it was Cyrano, but it couldn't be - this boy was too stocky to be her older brother.

The kids, still surrounded by many men, entered a bright lobby. Ida had to close her eyes again and then open them because the light stunned her. She heard low voices talking, and then they were led into a hall. After a long walk down a wide corridor and down some stairs, she heard a loud man state, "All right, one kid per cell. You, boy, just dump her in the bed and come out lickety split."

There was a grating metal sound, like an iron bar door being slid open, and then Ida was being placed on a scratchy mattress. She kept her eyes closed and heard the door slide shut. There were more prison door noises, a shuffling of footsteps. It was a long time before she heard a final, distant clang, then more footsteps, then fading footsteps as it climbed the metal stairs. Finally impatient, she jumped out of bed and took a look at where she was.

It was a pathetic little jail cell, with just four feet between the bed and the bars. There was a small opening on the bottom for food to be slipped in. There were no windows around, just a cold grey wall. She heard murmurs ringing through the hallway.

"Why were we taken here?"

"What do they want with us?"

"This place is too small!"

"I wanna go home..."

Ida went up to the bars and saw a boy sitting in the cell across from her, the same boy she had seen watching her in the cart. He smiled at her.

"You're awake," he said.

"What happened?" Ida asked him. "I was fake sleeping all the way in here so I didn't get a chance to see where we went into."

In the cell diagonally across from her, Tallasia sat on the floor and sidled up to the bars. "This ship is called The Harvest. I believe the group that took us is called 'Team Reaper'. That's what I heard they were called anyway."

Ida held onto the bars and did an experimental static shock on it, but Erin immediately cried, "Whooooaa whoa! You be careful. Metal is conductive - you might accidentally shock more than those bars if you put enough electricity into it."

She let go immediately. "Sorry." Ida looked at the stairs, which weren't far from her cell, and then decided to sit like Tallasia. The boy across from her did the same.

"My name is Ida," she told them. "They caught me in Primordia Town."

"My name is Tallasia." The other girl's voice was soft and wispy, much like her appearance. She pointed to the wall on her left side, probably pointing at the boy. "This is Erin. He's the one that carried you in. We're both from Toleranti Town."

Erin smiled. Though he had a big body, Ida thought he looked like a very gentle person. "I'm a Wooper anima," he said almost shyly. "So I wouldn't be too affected by your electricity, but I'm worried about the others."

Despite the situation, Ida laughed. "That's okay. Sorry for being a little dangerous. I'm a Pikachu anima." She looked at Tallasia. "I'm thinking you're a... Misdreavus anima? Your eyes look like it and that necklace reminds me of a Misdreavus."  
She nodded and smiled. "You're observant," she chimed.

Ida shrugged. "Naw, my brother's best friend used to teach me all kinds of things so..." Her voice trailed off as she thought about Freyr. And her brother. Where was he right now? Did he get taken along with the rest of the kids? She was sure she would have noticed him if he was. Maybe he didn't get caught, and was left back at Primordia. She hated to picture the thought of her older brother coming home and finding that she was gone, taken forcefully by the men in uniform that had raided her hometown of its children. He would be worried sick, and so would their parents.

There was a sudden shudder that ran through the ship. Most of the children cried out in surprise as the prison hall lurched. A thundering rumble manifested itself in every inch of the ship's body.

"We're taking off," Tallasia said. "Now our fates are in their hands."

Ida stumbled to her feet, feeling determination surge through her limbs. "No!" she shouted. "I'm not letting them take us." A few stray bolts danced around her.

Across from her cell, Erin also leapt to his feet. "Ida, be careful!" he cried.

There was one final jolt that sent everyone tumbling to the floor. Then Ida felt gravity press down on her as the ship took to the air.

* * *

**Hope you all enjoyed and reviews are greatly appreciated .b and agghh I just have to thank you again Farla for reviewing, perhaps this isn't the most solid story but I am grateful you even bothered to continue reading after noticing its flaws!**


	6. A Grim Situation

**OH. MY. GOODNESS. I apologize for not updating in a while... I have been stuck on this tale for quite a bit, not to mention just overall lack of motivation and business (being in the Grade 12 year with a babysitting job). I think this chapter is somewhat anti-climatic but ugh, I tried my very best m(_ _)m so please enjoy anyway**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon**

* * *

Chapter 6: A Grim Situation

**Subject: Ruminations on the Nature of Anima #2**  
**To: Silas Gracidea**

_Dear friend,_  
_Once again, good tidings unto you. I have come to an interesting concept that I would very much like to share with you. It fills me with much excitement and I just couldn't bear to keep it within my mind! It concerns the behaviour of certain abilities that may possibly be passed down through the parents' anima to the anima of their newborn child._

_As you probably know, some children's anima have a move not often found in that specific newborn Pokemon soul. We call them "egg moves", although the origins of the name "egg move" are still unknown, even to me. For example, a Charmander anima's moves at birth are Scratch and Growl. But if the mother or father of the newborn has an anima able to use Outrage, then their child's anima may possibly be able to use it at well. I believe that the reason for this strange phenomenon stems from an inborn trait within Pokemon from the past, and that perhaps the anima pass down these so called "egg moves" simply because that was how it was done before. I am currently compiling notes on which Pokemon are able to pass down certain moves to certain Pokemon, because I realized that sometimes the form of the Pokemon anima needs to be compatible with the anima of the newborn in some way. But I am merely throwing out speculations right now._

_I'm afraid I must cut this email short. I have just looked at the time and realized that I am going to be late for my visit to the shrine today if I continue writing to you. But no worries, for you will hear from me very soon._

_Sincerest regards from your childhood friend._

* * *

"Put him down."

Cyrano looked back and forth between the brown-haired boy and Jaze, still holding Freyr in a headlock. His friend's eyes were closed, his body was limp and his breathing seemed laboured. Nobody moved from their places, not even the two extra people standing in the alley with the smaller boy.

Jaze's eyes were wide and his mouth was frozen in a half-snarl. "Don't you dare," he hissed.

"Put him down." The boy did not lower his shaking hand or his gaze.

"No."

"Put him down."

"No!"

"Please put him down."

Jaze shrieked, "No! I'm not gonna be ordered around by some -"

The boy pulled his hand back and thrust it forward. A jet of water materialized from his palm and sprayed straight into Jaze's face. He let out a gurgling scream and let go of Freyr, who had not been in the direct line of fire but was not spared from the water that sprayed everywhere. Freyr fell to the ground, and Jaze scrambled back, rubbing his face and making sobbing, sputtering sounds. Cyrano ran forward and lifted Freyr from the ground, holding him in his arms. He glared at Jaze, sparks of pain and energy sputtering in his limbs.

"Get out," Cyrano said.

Jaze took one look at the water boy, then turned to Cyrano. His bloodshot eyes were filled with rage. "I'll get you next time," he spat. He threw one glance at his awakening accomplices and screamed, "Get over here, you slugs!"

"Y-yes Jaze," the boys said fearfully. With Cyrano and company watching, the boys placed their hands on Jaze's shoulders.

And then with the strange orb in his hands, Jaze and his lackeys warped away in a flash of colour and light.

The alley became quiet.

Cyrano looked down at Freyr. His friend was pale and breathing lightly. His eyes were still closed.

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder. A soft female voice said briskly, "Landon, get Cyrano to lean against the wall over there. Tristan, can I borrow your scarf and use it as a pillow?"

Cyrano's head flicked from side to side as the two newcomers gently eased Freyr from his grip onto the ground. The tall boy called Tristan sighed and grinned at Cyrano half-heartedly. He had the strangest eyes, dark as pebbles and yet they contained a kind of penetrating quality about them.

"My scarves are always used in Risa's first-aid procedures, someway, somehow," he chuckled. "So I always wear inexpensive ones because I know it's going to be dirty one way or another."

The girl, Risa, had her cheek close to Freyr's face, feeling his breath. She sat up. "The poison wore off a few minutes ago," she announced, "but he'll be pretty flimsy for the next couple of hours."

Cyrano nodded numbly and rubbing his shoulder, wincing as he touched the burn. The smaller boy, Landon, stood awkwardly to the side, gazing sideways at Cyrano sitting on the ground.

"You look kind of intact," he stated emotionlessly.

"Yeah, thanks to your water trick," Cyrano said. He stood slowly and swayed. The buzzing, burning sensation in his body persisted, and Cyrano began to wonder if it really was just adrenaline from the earlier battle, or if something was wrong with him. "Hey, um, Risa, was that your name?"

She nodded and removed a small bottle with clear liquid from her shoulder bag.

"Am I supposed to feel all painfully tingley throughout my whole body, or is there something wrong? Am I poisoned?"

All three kids stared at him. Risa smiled slightly. "You're not," she replied. "Is it through your entire body? Like it feels like the buzzing energy is coursing throughout your entire being?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Then that means you're evolving."

As if on cue, Cyrano cried out as his body began to glow with a shimmering white light. Then the Treeko anima within him was writhing, changing shape, morphing - and Cyrano could feel every inch of its movement. He closed his eyes as there was a final flash of light, and then it was over quite quickly. Tristan and Risa began to applaud crazily, while Landon gave a timid thumbs up.

His anima had evolved. Cyrano couldn't believe it. He was finally a Grovyle now.

"What's with the clapping?"

It was Freyr who had spoken. The other boy had woken up, but he was still lying down. His eyes met Cyrano's and he smiled weakly, knowing already what had occurred.

"Darn," was his comment. "I missed it."

Cyrano laughed and dashed to his friends side, cringing as the stings from his acid and burn wounds pained him. Risa helped Freyr to sit up.

"Okay Freyr, drink as much as you can from this bottle for now," she told him. Then she took out a small spray bottle. Without warning she grabbed Cyrano's shirt and pulled it off his shoulder, spraying the burn spot with the medicine. Cyrano let out a yelp.

"Ow!"

Risa giggled. "That will help it heal faster. I'll take a look at your chest later on when we get somewhere indoors, not in this poorly lit alleyway."

"Yeah, but you didn't have to forcibly yank of my shirt without my permission." Cyrano adjusted his collar and looked around, realizing she was right. It was poorly lit, and that was because night time had fallen. The sky above was dark and dashed with a few spots of starlight. Cyrano felt a bit stupid for hardly noticing his surroundings during the scuffle.

It's night. And Ida is still in the hands of the people that took her away.

The excitement from the earlier battle melted away. He looked at Freyr with wide eyes. "We're so behind," he said dejectedly.

Freyr met Cyrano's eyes briefly, then he looked away.

Tristan broke the silence. "Let's take 'em over to my apartment" he suggested. It's just down the block from here, and you guys can tell us your story and rest up. It seems like there's a lot going on for you two."

The plan sounded about as good as any, and so with Tristan's help, Cyrano helped Freyr walk, while Risa and Landon carried their packs and led the way.

* * *

"And that's pretty much what happened."

Cyrano had just finished telling the trio about the incident at Primordia, the trek he and Freyr took through the forest, meeting the old Abra guy, and finally how they ran into Jaze and his lackeys in the alley. He sat on the arm of the couch, wearing a fresh t-shirt. Freyr was lying down on the couch, while Risa and Tristan sat on the armchair and rocking chair. Landon sat on the floor across from Cyrano, leaning against the wall.

During the retelling of events, he learned a bit about Risa, Tristan, and Landon (who was actually a year younger than the rest of them). They were all residents of Amicitia, and heard the shouts in the alley when they walked by, having been on their way to Tristan's apartment. Cyrano found out that Risa was an Audino anima, Tristan was a Xatu anima, but for Landon's anima, both Freyr and Cyrano needed some explaining.

"Landon is an Eevee anima," Risa said.

"But how can an Eevee anima use Water Gun?" Freyr enquired, a puzzled look on his face - an expression Cyrano did not see often on his intellectual friend.

"Yeah," Cyrano added, "also, I'm pretty sure when we met, your eyes were blue. Was I seeing things?"

Landon looked somewhat uncomfortable. He shifted slightly and threw a shy glance in the boys' direction. "My eyes were blue," he said softly. "But they're supposed to be brown."

Cyrano and Freyr stared dumbly at the boy until Risa giggled. "It's a little complicated," she told them patiently. "You see, Landon is suffering from... an odd kind of condition. It's a bit of an illness, so he has difficulty doing physical things for a prolonged period of time. I don't really know how to explain it."

Tristan stepped in for her. "I actually looked into Landon's illness a bit myself," he said with a slight excitement in his voice. "It's quite strange - apparently this kind of illness affects mostly Eevee anima and Ditto anima. It has something to do with the anima's memory of having an unstable molecular structure, and this bodily confusion transfers to the bearer of the anima. His eyes change colour based on the current form of his Eevee."

Freyr sat up slowly, but he was smiling slightly. "I've never heard of this before, but I would love to learn more. It sounds quite intriguing. Hey, Cyrano -"

"Wait," Cyrano interrupted, "so, basically you guys are saying that Landon can transform into other Eevee forms whenever he wants to? That would be he has control over... uh, one, two three... seven different types!"

"I can't control it," Landon muttered. "And it really hurts when my Eevee changes."

"Oh, I see..."

Freyr grabbed Cyrano's arm. "Cyrano, geez. You're forgetting something here," he snapped. "Your sister, remember? I hope you didn't forget about her."

Cyrano yanked his arm away and scowled. "Of course I didn't forget her, silly! But you're still too weak to go anywhere. And how can we pursue them in the dark anyways?"

"Have you guys even alerted the authorities?" Risa crossed her arms. "Surely you don't think you can just recklessly chase after an entire organization! I'm sure the cops can get this under control."

Cyrano frowned. "Yeah, but... she's my sister. I just have to go after her. The cops can take care of things on their side, and who knows? Maybe I'll do something they couldn't do. I'm stronger now - I can handle things a little better."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Freyr said quietly.

"How about I turn on the news?" Tristan suggested quickly. "I'm sure there oughta be news of the incident in Primordia by now. The late night news always has more to report."

Landon crawled over to the television and turned it on. As they waited for the screen to start up, Landon asked, "Will your mom really be okay with two extra boys being here?"

Tristan shrugged. "She's really chill. She shouldn't be coming home tonight anyways - she went out with some friends for a movie night anyways."

"- still no sign of the children stolen from the small town-"

"Everyone, be quiet," Risa whispered.

The five teens turned their attention towards the television as the reporter spoke, a grim expression on her face.  
"Authorities all over the Circulan Region are on high alert and are madly scrambling to find the missing children and return them safely back home. They urge parents to please keep close tabs on their children and make sure they are never too long out of sight of an adult. If anyone has any information, please contact any officials in your area. Be on the lookout for any suspicious characters or activity. Most importantly of all, please do not endanger yourselves by rashly trying to take action against this massive unknown enemy. There have not been any updates so far..."

Cyrano stood up angrily. "To hell with not taking any action! Are they stupid?! Do they seriously think we should just stand around and twiddle our thumbs when we have family in danger?"

"Shut up, Cyrano," Freyr said in a quietly furious tone. "They're not stupid for speaking with the voice of reason. You're the one that thinks of this whole rescue mission as the golden opportunity to prove you're as good as any grownup."

His friend stared back at him in shock, stunned at his words. Risa stood up slowly, glancing worriedly between the boys. She opened her mouth to speak. "Hey-"

And in that moment, flames burst from within the television.

* * *

**Aaaaaaaaaaaand there we have it another chapter la de dah reviews greatly appreciated thanks! And I hope I can get this thing updated more often = = or else it will end up in the graveyard of all my other... incomplete... stories... not to mention I have another idea for a story again *sHOT***


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